Your story needs a successful antagonist – one who wins a lot, who has odds
overwhelmingly in their favor, moves the story ahead and directly challenges
the protagonist’s story goal.

Without a powerful antagonist, your protagonist has nothing
substantial to fight against—there’s little reason to cheer for them.

Ways to Make Your
Antagonist Menacing

Backstory – Your antagonist needs a past and a
history. Evil is grown not born. Even if it never comes out in the story, YOU
need to know what made them like this.

Justified – Your antagonist is the hero of their own
story and can rationally justify their thoughts and actions. Their actions and
motivations are not random or nonsensical.

A Moral Code – Your antagonist can’t be completely bad
all the time. Let them rescue kittens, love their moms, never break their word,
whatever. Some antagonists have a moral framework they restrict themselves
to—they only kidnap and murder men who abuse children, for instance. Anyone can
fall in love, but who loves your antagonist? Is there something in your
antagonist worth loving?

Heighten Tension –You know what Game of Thrones does really really well? There are some serious
underdogs and overwhelming villains and antagonists. Here’s the key observation.
The odds always remain in the favor of the bad guys and when it begins to tip
the other way, a new antagonist emerges on the scene. The characters in the
story rearrange themselves according to the actions of the antagonist.

You need a successful antagonist because if there’s no struggle, if the
threat of loss for the main character isn’t imminent and devastating, there’s
no underdog to cheer for.

The Inciting Incident Determines The Antagonist

Sometimes
things can get really muddled in story land, and as the writer it’s hard to
know exactly who or what is the main antagonist. Flip to the beginning of your
story. What’s the inciting incident? Whatever problem is caused by the inciting
incident is the main story problem and whatever is causing or in opposition to
the main story problem is the antagonist—generally.

A
man is marooned on a mountain in a snow storm. What’s his main story goal? If
his main story goal is to survive and get off the mountain, the snow storm
(nature) could be a valid antagonist. If his main story goal is to survive the
storm, get off the mountain, and kill the person who left him stranded on the
mountain, then the snow storm (nature) is merely an obstacle to his goal. Do you
see the difference?

An
antagonist actively works to prevent the protagonist from reaching their main
story goal.

Antagonists vs Villains

The antagonist is the source of the opposing
plot movement, and they get to win quite a bit right up until the end of your
story. The antagonist is a role. The villain is any character who opposes your
protagonist. (Consider Disney’s The Lion
King. Scar is the antagonist and the hyenas Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed are
villains. The hyenas oppose Simba but don’t move the plot ahead. Do you see the
difference?)

In genres like romance, the hero/heroine can’t be the antagonist because the hero and the heroine must end up together (that’s a rule!). But, they are often at odds for most of the story. The antagonist is whatever person or force is keeping them apart. They will have to overcome obstacles, sometimes that obstacle is a villain, but the obstacles aren’t the antagonist. The antagonist must lose.

In
Patricia Brigg’s novel Cry Wolf the
main story problem is that Charles knows Anna is fated to be his mate, but
she’s terrified of him. The antagonist is Anna’s fear, PTSD, anxiety, etc.
However, there’s also a witch in the story – the witch isn’t keeping Charles
and Anna apart, but she does present a story problem which Charles and Anna
must work together to solve. The story problem is Anna’s fear of Charles, but
the witch creates an ancillary story problem that presents an obstacle and
serves as a plot device to force the hero and heroine to work together.

So, for the story to have a satisfying ending, Charles and Anna must defeat both the witch AND Anna’s fear. It’s important (read much much easier) for your character to fight a physical villain than themselves. It’s hard to portray that fight well. An ancillary villain provides the action and tension needed to represent the internal battle against the real antagonist.

The Case Of Dexter

Sometimes, the antagonist looks a lot like your protagonist. Take the example of television’s Dexter. Dexter is charming, holds down a job, was raised by a cop and lives his life by a strict moral code. However, Dexter kills people. He’s a serial killer. But Dexter is the protagonist – so how does that work?

Let’s dig a little deeper. At best, Dexter’s an anti-hero or even a villain protagonist — he can’t be both the protagonist and the antagonist.

We can get behind Dexter’s need for justice, his ability to act without caring what people think, his moral limits. But the antagonist in Dexter is actually his personality disorder – the psychopathy. The psychopathy is always just on the edge of winning out, of taking over, of silencing the (through voice overs) moral limits or obstacles Dexter places on himself.

The story obstacles in each episode would be the morals his father imposed on him and the laws and technology that might apprehend him from reaching his story goal (successfully murdering whoever he’s targeted).

Another
example of this kind of antagonist construction is the film Flight with Denzel Washington. If serial
killers aren’t your thing, Washington’s character’s main antagonist is
alcoholism, but the investigation launched against him acts as an ancillary
villain and story obstacles.

Not everyone likes to be put in a box, so there are other types of antagonists who don’t fit in these categories like time (sometimes it’s a plot device, sometimes it’s an antagonist), memory (faulty, spotty, unreliable), phobias or anxieties (preventing a character from reaching his goal), situations (they only have 12 amps to bring Apollo 13 back to earth)–you get the idea.

How To Recognize An Antagonist

Sometimes things can get really muddled in story land and it’s hard to know exactly who or what is the main antagonist. Some stories include villains, themes, and obstacles that can look like an antagonist. Flip to the beginning of the story. What’s the inciting incident? Whatever problem is caused by the inciting incident is the main story problem and whatever is causing or in opposition to the main story problem is the antagonist – generally.

Obstacles vs Antagonists

Many of the types of conflict above can also be just an obstacle. A man who is marooned on a mountain in a snow storm is in conflict with nature and if his goal is survival, then that’s a valid man vs nature conflict. However, if the man’s goal is make it off the mountain to kill the person who put him there, then the mountain (nature) is simply an obstacle. Do you see the difference?

An antagonist actively works to prevent the protagonist from reaching their goal. Even in man vs nature stories, where the weather or environment is indifferent, it can take on its own personality and seem vindictive or angry and throw its worst at the protagonist so they can’t succeed. There’s no story if the man stranded on the mountain happens to land there when a chinook wind passes through, melts all the snow, and he just walks back to civilization. Instead, the mountain will throw an Alberta Clipper at the man and bury him chest-deep in snow for a week, have rotten ice give way and toss him down an embankment so he breaks an ankle, and and and – as though the mountain is actively preventing the man from leaving, sees him as an intruder.

The key point is what’s your protagonist’s goal? This will directly flow out of your story’s inciting incident which should be emotionally gripping. They want/need this goal so much they won’t turn back no matter what. If nature, or animals, or some character flaw is just an obstacle then you need to make sure you have a compelling antagonist too. Let’s say we have a story about a man on trial for drunk driving and killing a pedestrian. His alcoholism is certainly a flaw he needs to overcome, but if his story goal isn’t getting clean then it’s just an obstacle. Maybe his goal is convincing a jury he’s innocent, or his story goal is to walk his daughter down the aisle at her wedding. These kinds of internal conflicts can be a compelling emotional arc, but it takes more than a man being an alcoholic for addiction to become the antagonist.

Personification

Now that you know you have a genuine antagonist that’s non-human, the difficulty becomes in showing that conflict. Many writers use personification–they give the nebulous antagonist a tangible shape or face. They use a proxy character. President Snow stands in for The Capitol in The Hunger Games. Often in stories where natural disasters are looming, there’s a radar that predicts the coming damage. There’s a live computer simulator they fight with trying to find a solution. There are naysayers, other antagonists and even villains working against the protagonist. Conflict is best when done face to face, so how can you give your non-human antagonist a face?

If your character is opposing a large faceless corporation, government, or societal will, have someone who defends what the protagonist is fighting against stand in for the antagonist. Readers want to put a name or a face to the “bad guy.” They want to know what the protagonist is fighting against. In The Lord of the Rings, the big bad antagonist is an evil force with no body or face, it’s just a lidless eye wreathed in flames, but it has a name–Sauron. The story was over when Frodo destroyed the ring and Sauron.

Fighting An Inner Character

Some characters have two sides to them. Think of werewolves or Jekyll and Hyde. These seem like human vs himself, but they’re really human vs human because their alter personalities act and think independently, sometimes without memory of what the other did. Even though the personalities inhabit one body, one is the protagonist and the other the antagonist. You write them as though they are two separate characters.

Ted Dekker’s novel Th3ee uses a character with split personalities, but you don’t know that until the end because you don’t get the antagonist’s point of view. Dekker’s construction of these two separate characters in one body who act and think independently is well done.

Create An External Force

In Nicholas Spark’s novel A Walk To Remember, Landon’s pride is the real antagonist but it’s shown through external forces. That conflict is shown through his distinct dissatisfaction with tangible things – his friends, his recreation choices, his volunteer work, Jamie’s father, his relationship with his father. It becomes a battle of wills with a visible result. Readers will feel cheated if at the end of the story it doesn’t feel like the protagonist has achieved anything.

Look at the movie Armageddon. What’s the main antagonist there? The surface story problem is the giant asteroid careening towards earth that will end all life as we know it. Harry Stamper agrees to take his team into space to destroy the asteroid and thereby save earth. However, the inciting incident is when Harry finds out his right-hand man AJ is sleeping with Grace (Harry’s daughter). Keeping Grace safe is Harry’s emotional goal and story problem so what stands in opposition to that (aside from the asteroid)? Pride. Harry’s and AJ’s pride serves as the antagonistic force for his emotional story problem. Harry agrees to destroy the asteroid to keep Grace safe (surface story problem and emotional story problem collide).

As Tolkien wrote in The Lord Of The Rings, there are some things time can’t heal — like PTSD. So even if the antagonistic force in your story isn’t one that can be overcome–like a recovered alcoholic can’t ever drink again–having a tangible external force to fight against that parallels or highlights the internal struggle still delivers a payoff (satisfying end) for readers.

The two most important characters in your story are your protagonist and your antagonist. They both must be equally developed and dynamic. After all, no one looks heroic, brave, or is worth cheering for if they don’t break a sweat—if everything comes easily to them. How annoying is that! We cheer for the underdog, the weakling facing the school bully, those who put everything on the line knowing their chances of winning are slim or impossible.

This is the beyond basics blog, so let’s look at antagonists a little deeper. I wrote in an earlier post that your protagonist may not be your main character – that distinction is important. The antagonist is the source of the opposing plot movement and they get to win quite a bit right up until the end of your story. The antagonist is a role.

The villain is any character who opposes your protagonist. Consider Disney’s The Lion King. Scar is the big bad antagonist for little Simba. It’s Scar’s opposition that moves the story ahead. The hyenas Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed are villains, they oppose Simba, but they’re not antagonists—they don’t move the plot ahead. Do you see the difference?

Your story could have an antagonist (or more than one) and villains, or your antagonist could also be the villain. The tips below aren’t prescriptive. Your antagonist doesn’t NEED to be a foil or a mirror, for instance, but if you want to take your writing to the next level here’s some things to think about.

Crafting A Compelling Antagonist

What’s A Foil?

A foil doesn’t have to be your antagonist (sometimes a foil character is a sidekick, villain, or love interest), but they are your protagonist’s opposite. Whatever values your protagonist holds, the foil holds the opposite. Spock is a foil to Captain Kirk—all logic or all instinct. The Evil Queen is a foil to Snow White. Gollum and Bilbo both act as foils for Frodo–possibilities of what he could become (The Lord of the Rings). A foil is used to highlight the inner strengths and weaknesses of the protagonist by showing the opposite. This is what they would look like if they took x or y path. A foil helps readers better understand the protagonist’s traits and motivations.

How Are Mirrors Different From Foils?

A mirror character reflects back your protagonist’s qualities like a mirror. These are the bad guys who turn to the hero at some point and say with an evil smile, “We’re not so different, you and I.” Of course, they’ll differ in one or two significant ways usually in their morals, desires, and/or actions. The mirror character can shift between ally and antagonist and so is often a very complex character to write. Though a mirror doesn’t have to be an antagonist (Hans Solo is a mirror for Luke Skywalker) the antagonists who are mirrors are very compelling—consider Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lector.

“Dear Clarice, I have followed with enthusiasm the course of your disgrace and public shaming. My own never bothered me, except for the inconvenience of being incarcerated. But you may lack perspective. ~Hannibal”

Antagonists who are either mirrors or foils are crafted intentionally with a good amount of forethought. They are complex by nature and must play off of your protagonist, often with more than one face-to-face encounter.

How To Make Your Antagonist Menacing

Backstory – Your antagonist needs a past and a history. Evil is grown not born. Even if it never comes out in the story, YOU need to know what made them like this.

Justified – Your antagonist is the hero of their own story and must believe they are completely justified in their thoughts and actions.

A Moral Code – Your antagonist can’t be completely bad all the time. Let them rescue kittens, love their moms, never break their word, whatever. Some antagonists have a moral framework they restrict themselves to–they only kidnap and murder husbands who cheat on their wives, for instance.

Heighten Tension – Let the antagonist constantly be within reach of their goals. Nothing ratchets up the tension more than a bad guy/girl who almost has everything they want while tripping up the protagonist.

Your Antagonist Needs A Goal Plus Conviction

Your antagonist must have a tangible goal to be a credible threat to your protagonist. If their goal is just to be bad, to exterminate laughter, how do you measure success? What steps do you make towards that goal? Scar wants Mufasa’s crown and everything he does is designed to get him closer to ruling Pride Rock.

An antagonist who wavers, who questions himself, who is filled with self-doubt, isn’t menacing. Consider Kilgrave, the antagonist in Jessica Jones. His goal is to get Jessica back, but he wants her to choose him. His logic is a bit skewed, but he has someone jump off a roof, someone else shoots their parents, tells six people to hang themselves, tells someone else to cut off a man’s head. There’s no lengths he won’t go to in order to convince Jessica she should come back to him. When he makes a threat, there’s no doubt he’ll go through with it.

Goal plus conviction equals menace.

Become Your Antagonist

I like to think of writing in deep point of view as method acting for writers. Therefore, becoming your antagonist is the best way to write them. Say your antagonist wants to kill someone. You haven’t tried/wanted to hunt and kill another human being. Fair enough. But have you ever wanted something so much you’d have done anything to achieve your goal? Have you pushed ahead towards a goal others warned you wouldn’t end well?

Ever had mice in your house? What lengths have you gone to in order to eradicate the pests from your house or apartment? Now you can justify your murderous rage in a dozen different ways. The mouse was no longer an innocent creature, it became public enemy number one. You may have aimed to give it a quick death, or as time went on perhaps you put more thought and craft into your hunt. I’ve seen ordinarily nice people stand over a mouse trap and say, “Good! I hope you suffered.” There is nothing new under the sun, yes? The range of human emotions available to killers, rapists, narcissists, etc. are available to all of us to varying degrees.

When the actor Anthony Hopkins was asked how he prepared for the role of Hannibal Lector he said, “’I don’t know why but I’ve always known what scares people … When I was a kid I’d tell the girls around the street the story about Dracula and I’d go ‘th-th-th’,’ he says, reproducing the same chilling sucking noise he made during The Silence of the Lambs’ infamous fava beans and a nice-chianti scene. ‘As a result, they’d run away screaming.’” (source here)